


Cartoon Super Villains and Sexy Agents

by ximeria



Series: MI6 - Mutant Division aka the Mad House [1]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Guns, Humor, Lust at First Sight, M/M, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 05:30:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4007668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ximeria/pseuds/ximeria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik becomes part of MI6's Mutant Division. His team is bat shit crazy but damned good at what they do. He really wants to know who trained them, but everyone goes quiet when he asks, so Erik figures he better stop asking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which the team gets a new member and the shit hits the fan (nothing new there).

**Author's Note:**

> I blame a lot of things for this little two-parter plot bunny. Most of all probably Henry Jackman's score for Kingsman (and possibly the action sequences of Kingsman as well). And probably a lot of other things as well. Because it's not my fault this exits. There was a huge, drooling plot bunny sitting on my chest one night before I went to sleep.

Raven shook her head. "Hank, you might want to have a look at this dossier," she said, turning the file folder over to her friend and colleague.

Hank pulled it over by the tip of a claw, mumbling as he skimmed the information. "Woah, that's almost like-"

"Yeah, I mean, his background is wildly different from… you know, but it's the same brand of bat shit crazy." She pulled the dossier back.

"And he's going to be added to the team?" Hank asked, waving Alex over, who read over his shoulder, leaning into his space, though neither seemed uneasy about it. Habits of years on the same team.

"Wow, yeah, either he'll fit right in," Alex agreed, "or he'll implode and be out again within the week."

Raven turned the folder over to Darwin as he came over. Apart from Sean and Angel, who were out on a mission, they were the last class that had been tutored under her brother before he'd been killed.

There was a reason why they recognized a special brand of insanity.

"So, former Mossad, then Interpol and now MI6's special department's poached him?" Darwin looked through the meager file.

"That's just the basic info," Raven told him gleefully. It had been a long time since they'd tried on a new team member - most didn't fit in with the team and without the fit, Raven, the leader of the team, would not keep on an agent.

She'd learned many things from Charles, not all above board, but that one had sat with her since day one. One wrong member could mess with the entire team's dynamics. Now they were getting one Mr Erik Lehnsherr, whose test scores were impressive, who was, of course a mutant - or he'd never have been suggested for the team. And who was apparently 'a bit of a loner, difficult to work with and had a habit of going off on his own.'

Yeah, Raven had a feeling he'd fit right in.

* * *

Erik's first week as part of MI6's special division was… interesting. When they'd pitched the idea to him, offered him a chance to join a mutant only group within MI6, Erik's interest had been piqued. Then they'd offered him as much information as they could have without his agreeing to the offer and signing a shitload of secret documents. And he'd been more than interested after this.

Of course none of this had warned him that this group of misfits were insane beyond redemption, beyond help, and that, as with most other established groups, it wasn't going to be easy to fit in. However, Erik had grown tired of Interpol not letting him create what MI6 had offered him to be a part of. A division made up entirely of mutants. He'd balked at first when he'd learned that the head of the department was human, though five minutes in Mactaggert's company, he had to admit she was a no nonsense kind of woman and after ten minutes with the team, that the whole department probably would go up in flames if not for her.

As in, they'd probably set themselves on fire.

Still, after two missions in the field with them, he wanted to know who'd trained them. As wild and uncontrolled as they acted when they were on base, as in control and efficient they were once in the field.

Erik had tried asking, but all that had gotten him were strange looks and silences. It bothered him, though he could make guesses. Possibly whomever had trained them, had lost his or her life in the line of duty. It wasn't as if the division didn't have its share of wild tales of more than one past agent. Half of them, Erik had put off as being grossly exaggerated. Especially one's about the Professor.

Interpol had had similar stories about past agents and quite frankly, even with the mutant factor involved, he rarely bought into the stories.

* * *

"New target," Raven said, as she clicked through the system and sent various files to their work stations around the table. "Or rather, old Faithful when it comes to villains."

Erik stared at the dossier. "Shaw," he said, before he could stop himself.

"You know the guy?" Sean asked curiously.

Erik stared at the image of a grinning Shaw staring back at him.

"It wasn't in your file," Darwin commented quietly.

"It was well before I became an agent," Erik replied. He rarely shared this part of his history, it always lay there at the core of his being, festering like an old wound that refused to heal. "I was barely a teenager. Shaw wanted to recruit me, as he tended to do back then. Children were easier to influence."

"He still does that," Alex said with a sour look. "Tried to do that to my brother - good thing Scotty's a goody two shoes."

Erik drew a deep breath. "He tried to turn me against my parents, then when that didn't work, he decided I needed a lesson."

Raven winced. "Sorry," she said quietly. She hesitated. "We've all had run ins with Shaw and more than one of us have lost people to him - both inside and outside the agency."

Erik bared his teeth in a mirthless grin. "Then maybe it's time we take him out."

"You'll hear no argument from us," Angel said, sitting back in her seat with a satisfied smirk.

* * *

Now, had Erik thought this through, he'd have seen that their initial chase for Shaw had been too easy. Maybe they'd all been blinded a little by the possibility of finally catching up with the man they all wanted to take down.

Erik was pissed off that Shaw had made this elaborate trap in order to capture them. That he had managed to do so, from what Erik could tell. There just wasn't a lot he could do about it. Shaw had hit them with some sort of grenade, that had robbed them of sight and hearing for long enough to take them out and lock them up individually. And it must have been planned well in advance.

Erik's room was bare and the walls were frosted glass, plastic and concrete as far as Erik could tell. The chair he was strapped to with plastic strips was wood and the floor under him was see through glass, suspended over a shaft that probably ran straight down through the mountain lair of Shaw's. The man really was beginning the take his role as super villain a little too seriously.

The floor meant Erik couldn't grab onto anything there either and if he could have busted out that way, there was no way for him to catch his fall going down. At least nothing he could feel.

So long story short, if the rest of the team were in similar situations, they were all fucked.


	2. In which Erik is annoyed that his rescuer won't share his toys.

When Charles had been forced to fake his own death in order to get Shaw off his back, he'd grieved at the thought he'd never be allowed to see his sister and the rest of his team again. His little makeshift family. However, Shaw would have kept chasing him to the ends of the earth with his misconception that he could convert Charles to his cause. Which Charles had tried for years to explain to him that he really couldn't. He had the feeling that Shaw eventually just decided that if he couldn't have Charles' talents, then no one could.

In the end the only way Charles had seen out of it was faking his own death and hoping that Shaw would stop trying to kill the team in order to get to Charles.

His days since then had been quiet and boring as he worked his job in a little American town, his job as a mid school teacher mind numbing and with very little in the way of explosions, life and death situations etc.

He'd long since stopped keeping tabs on the team. He'd considered it in the beginning, but they were all familiar with the feel of his mind and there was no way he could cover his tracks that well.

So Charles had gotten to terms with his new life on the surface at least. As he lay in his bed one night, though, on the cusp of sleep, something burst through his mind. Not words, but emotions and recognition and Charles was up and out of the bed in a split second, moving, dressing, grabbing things left and right before heading downstairs of his little house, prying up floor boards that hid a long metal box.

Less than ten minutes later he was on an unregistered mobile phone, calling key people who were too intelligent to waste time on telling him that he was supposed to be dead.

Less than ten hours later, he was sneaking through the vents of Shaw's 'super secret' lair. Secret, maybe, to other people, but Charles kept getting flashes of emotions from his sister and years of training allowed him to pinpoint her whereabouts. He could only hope that the rest of the team were there. Obviously Shaw still employed tech to block telepathy, but Charles had skills that had nothing to do with his mutation and he was going to put a stop to Shaw once and for all. He stopped as he came to a door that lead down a hallway. He'd made it this far. Now it was time for him to let out every damned prisoner in Shaw's facility.

Drawing both handguns, Charles took a deep breath and went in.

* * *

Erik had gone over more than a dozen ideas for getting out and still he was bound to this damned chair with plastic strips. Shaw hadn't even been down there to gloat and quite frankly, Erik was hurt. Shaw was such a piece of shit.

He was going though plans for killing Shaw when some commotion outside the cell caught his attention. A moment later the frosted glass on one side cracked and fell into a thousand pieces, scattering on the floor.

Erik looked up from the gleaming pieces of glass, for a moment wishing his abilities weren't restricted to metal. All those thoughts ground to a halt when he caught sight of the guy striding into the room. Shorter than Erik himself, but moving like he knew what he was doing. The turn and twist of his body was beautiful to watch and Erik wasn't above allowing himself to enjoy the view for a moment or three.

The backside wasn't bad either, and Erik watched with appreciation as the guy handled his guns with ease, shooting at the guards chasing him. Erik could appreciate more than just the man, though. He could finally feel metal again, even if only what the man was carrying on him, including his ammo.

The man twisted around again, striding towards Erik. "I hope your mutation can do what I think it can," he told Erik, before closing the distance between them, his momentum as he straddled Erik's lap tilting the chair up onto its two hind legs as guns were aimed downward and Erik found himself falling backwards, no floor to catch him as the glass and plastic shattered from the impact of high caliber bullets fired in rapid succession.

Time seemed to slow as air rushed past them and while Erik knew very well the physics of falling, he couldn't tear his eyes from the man towering over him, stretching his arms skywards while firing at the guards who were leaning out over the broken floor.

_'Now would be a mighty fine time to show your skills, Mr. Lehnsherr,'_ a voice whispered in Erik's mind. _'I'd hate to go through all this to only have Shaw scraping us off the floor.'_

Between one heartbeat and the next, Erik found himself reaching out and finally feeling all the metal of the bedrock beneath them. And it was rushing towards them at a higher speed than he liked.

_'Then I suggest you do something about it.'_

Erik slowed their descend until they were hanging less than two inches above the ground.

"A man with a flair for the dramatic," the guy said with a wink, slipping from his seat as Erik sat the chair down on the ground. Between one shot and the next, Erik's binds were cut and he was finally free.

"Might I suggest we leg it out of here and find the others?" the man suggested as he pointed at a metal door leading out of the place.

Erik pointed at his guns. "One of those for me?"

"Nope, mine," the man replied happily, discarding empty cartridges and reloading almost too fast for Erik to see. If he wasn't already slightly turned on by this…

"Really, Mr. Lehnsherr - I don't normally get hot and heavy with people before we've been introduced."

"You apparently know who I am, so that's entirely your own oversight," Erik grumbled, still sore about not being given a weapon.

"I'm Charles, and you're quite right," Charles replied with a wink as he opened the door and yanked Erik with him as another volley of bullets came down the shaft they had escaped through. "But you can get your own weapon, if you want to ignore the fact that you _are_ a weapon."

"Couldn't you just tell everyone to lay down their weapons?" Erik groused. As much as he loved his gift, he liked weapons too.

"Shaw might have thought me dead," Charles muttered as he checked another hallway and let off a few well placed shots. "But he still takes telepaths into consideration and supplies his minions with blockers."

"What's your plan, then?" Erik asked.

"You're going to get your team out, and not mention me to any of them, and I'll go deal with Shaw, once and for all."

The answer took Erik a little by surprise. "And what if I want in on that action?" Because he really, _really_ did. And why the hell didn't Charles want him to mention him to the team?

"You and half the world, darling," Charles said with a grin as he twisted around a corner, bullets tearing into the concrete surface of the hallway, but none of them hitting him. Erik would have liked to say he had a hand in this, but he didn't. Ceramic fucking bullets.

"Yes, that might pose as a problem," Charles said, as if Erik had mentioned it out loud. As they moved forward, he grabbed a gun from one of the fallen guards and handed it to Erik. "Now make yourself useful. Your team is always top priority unless someone's trying to blow up the world. In which case, the team is still first priority, but feel free to save them by saving the world."

"You're fucking nuts, aren't you?" Erik blurted out. Quite frankly this didn't diminish his initial attraction.

"Just out of the loop for too long," Charles grinned as he pushed Erik up against a wall, bullets flying around their ears. And Erik was going to castrate Shaw for using ceramic bullets. Asshole, taking away Erik's opportunity for defence.

"When we get back I'll show you a few moves that would negate the need for that," Charles all but purred at him before leaping back into the hallway and delivering a swift death to any guards still in the way further along. "Now go get your bloody team out!"

"Asshole," Erik mutter, grabbing his gun tightly and reaching out to find anything that might tell him where they others were. He recognized Raven's ankle bracelet that he'd made himself familiar with on their first mission. Then Alex's necklace and Sean's thumb ring. Since they were roughly in the same place, he figured both Darwin, Mccoy and Angel would be as well.

_'You're enjoying it,'_ Charles teased inside his mind.

Erik huffed and started looking for a way to get to the team while Charles was creating mayhem and destruction on his way to Shaw. Because Charles was right, team first, revenge second. Of course, if he could get the team out, he could track down Charles and possibly nail Shaw as well.

_'Overachiever,'_ Charles snorted. _'Does that focus and tenaciousness extend into bed as well?'_

Erik nearly stumbled. Apparently, if Shaw wasn't going to be his death, Charles _was._ Stripping whatever metal he _could_ find in machines and computers nearby, he created a small tornado of sharp shrapnel in front of him as he want to do what he'd been ordered to do. Get the team, keep the team safe. Then grill them about who the fuck Charles was!


End file.
